


Out the Box, Out of Line

by enbyofdionysus



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Blood Bending, Bottom Jason, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 04:53:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2297270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbyofdionysus/pseuds/enbyofdionysus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's not entirely sure how they got here to be honest, to this moment. There’s been a building tension between them ever since Percy came back from Tartarus. Percy would push him harder when they sparred, would touch his arm unneededly when they spoke, would stare at him with eyes that made something crawl beneath Jason's skin. Percy's changed since Tartarus, that much was definite, but Jason can't understand why it is they're doing what they're doing now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out the Box, Out of Line

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for blood play, but not in a gory way?

He feels a puff of breath as Percy laughs soundlessly against the shell of his ear.

He's not entirely sure how they got here to be honest, to this moment. There’s been a building tension between them ever since Percy came back from Tartarus. Percy would push him harder when they sparred, would touch his arm unneededly when they spoke, would stare at him with eyes that made Jason shiver. Percy's changed since Tartarus, that much is definite, but Jason can't understand why it is they're doing what they're doing now.

He can't understand why his hands are running along the muscles of Percy's back and shoulders – holy _Jove_ , his _shoulders_. He can't understand why Percy's lips are on his neck, why Percy fits so well between his legs. He can't understand why Percy looks at him like a hunting dog does Actaeon, why his body feels so good being pressed together to another man. Jason's never been interested in other men, but demigods aren't other men, are they? As if to prove his point, his body shudders at the sight of Percy's tattoo on the inside of his forearm; the SPQR is like a brand, a claim. _Jason's claim_.

He grabs Percy by the hair and pulls him into a kiss. He expects it to be as fierce as their sparring, but it's surprisingly soft. There's a desperation behind it, a burning hunger, but Percy's lips cushion the blows. Each nip he gives Jason's mouth is followed by a gentle lick calmly applied as if calculating how to take him apart.

They haven't spoken since Percy shoved him against the door of his cabin, but now Percy breaks the silence, his voice breathless and rough. “How do you want me?”

Jason's ADHD makes the sentence difficult to comprehend for the first few seconds, but when it does comprehend he admits, head swimming, “In every way.” He's sure it's a dumb response, but Percy laughs his silent laugh, eyes bright. He moves up, the tips of their noses brushing together.

Gazing at him from such a close proximity, seeing the fondness in Percy's eyes, makes Jason's heart ache, but it easily stutters when Percy turns his head and fastens his teeth to Jason's earlobe, breath hot on his skin.

“You know how I want _you_?” he asks then and Jason's brain short-circuits.

He knows _exactly_ what Percy wants and suddenly his body aches for it, burns for it. “ _Yeah_.”

There's a fear at the back of his mind, behind the fog of lust and arousal, that he might electrocute Percy in the midst of it all. Sparks fly from his fingertips as he yanks down his jeans, his power uncontrolled, but as he and Percy bare themselves to each other between kisses it starts to become clear to Jason how this really does make sense, the two of them here and now. Something had changed Percy in Tartarus, changed him into something darker, but although Jason doesn't know what that something is, he knows Percy's hiding it, hiding it from Annabeth the same way that Jason hides his anxieties from Piper.

This is them bringing those feelings out, unafraid of each other, unafraid of their powers. Percy knows that if something goes wrong Jason could kill him and Jason knows that if Percy lost control... Well, the human body is made up of sixty percent of water.

Jason wonders if trust can be a kink although “trust” is starting to feel more like “danger” as Percy runs his hand down Jason's chest to his stomach, his eyes glowing green in the darkness of the cabin. It's something Jason's never seen before. And since Jason has no sense of self-preservation, he opens his mouth and asks in the quiet of the room, “You can feel it, can't you?” Percy meets his gaze. “The blood?”

Percy's quiet for a moment and Jason can see him gauging Jason's possible reactions to the truth. But Jason was the one who opened Pandora's box; if he weren't comfortable with it, he wouldn't have asked.

As if reading Jason's mind, Percy nods once, a short quick jerk of his head. And then, voice barely audible: “Can I?”

A surge of heat hits Jason like a wall. “Yeah. Yeah, come on.”

The effect of it, of Percy, is unlike anything Jason had imagined. He feels his skin flush, his body relax, his heart stammer. His cock twitches twice as he watches Percy's face, a calm mask of intrigue, watching Jason as if he were a work of art painting itself. “Your blood vessels are dilating,” Percy tells him, voice wrecked.

“What does that mean?” Jason asks, light-headed.

Percy licks his lips, meets his eyes. His own face is flushed. “It means I can fuck you now. If you want me to.”

Jason nods, making a vague gesture to the stand beside the bed. “Lube,” is all he says, but Percy responds adequately enough. He disappears for a minute and then he's back between Jason's legs like he never left, pouring a capsize amount of lube into his palm and rubbing it between his hands.

Instead of telling him to relax, Percy simply tells him “I've got you.” He pours an extra amount of lube directly onto his fingers, but it still takes a few minutes for Jason to adjust even though he's relaxed from the inside out.

Percy twists his fingers, curls them, moving at the same slow pace as his hand on Jason's dick. It's the pace Jason needs, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth in a steady rhythm. He hears Percy make a Pilates joke, but ignores it and, finally, the fingering doesn't feel uncomfortable anymore. There's a nice sensation in its stead that Jason attributes to what must be his prostate. “I'm ready,” he groans.

Percy pulls his fingers out carefully, wiping them off on the bed sheet before grabbing the lube bottle again. The amount this time is borderline excessive and it's so much like Percy that it makes Jason's lips quirk in a laugh he doesn't have the energy to muster. It's when Percy starts to push in that Jason sends a silent thank you to Priapus that the son of Poseidon's tip is smaller such that when he's inside in earnest it's a gradual stretch from tip to base.

The ADHD part of his brain wonders if Percy's dick is the same as those in the “Beginner's Anal Kit” packages, but Percy's voice brings him back to reality. “You okay?” he asks.

Jason nods.

“Do you want me to move?”

He nods again.

The sensation is different, but good. Every nerve ending in his body is on edge and Percy rubs them all the right way. He doesn't piston his hips, but doesn't act like Jason's made of glass. It's perfect, each thrust making his toes curl until his back starts to arch of its own accord. He's close, can feel the sweat dripping down his face with the strain of it. One of Percy's hands is bolted to his hip, the other to his chest, keeping him anchored as he starts to go over.

Their pace quickening, the ocean breeze that periodically crawls beneath the door at night in gentle sweeps begins to pick up the maps Jason has sprawled out on the floor, fluttering and swerving around each other in little pirouettes. Simultaneously, the air in the room becomes heavier, making it harder to breathe, and it slowly dawns on Jason as Percy lowers himself so there's hardly space between them that the both of them together, rocking their hips and sharing moans, are making a hurricane.

The realization makes him snort, but then all thought turns to mush as Percy angles himself.

Just.

 _Right_.

 

* * *

 

 

“Should we be flying this high?” Franks asks. 

A patch of dark clouds has formed over the Argo II and he wonders vaguely if they've offended Jupiter in any way. But Jupiter doesn't rule the skies of Europe anymore.

“It's fine,” he hears Leo say from the wheel, but his tone says it isn't. Frank can feel the pressure changing as Leo takes them steadily lower. “They'll pass over in a few minutes. Besides, Jason's like a walking conductor, right? We should be-”

Frank hears someone curse on the lower deck at the same time that a lightning bolt the size of a whale slams itself just past the ship and into the water.

They don't talk about Leo's scream.

 


End file.
